


Latum Alterum

by archivings



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Archivist Sasha James, Be nice to me, F/F, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Humor, He/Him Pronouns For Nonbinary Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist With a Cane, M/M, No beta we kayak like Tim, Nonbinary Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Trans Martin Blackwood, Trans Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), aka sasha's presence fixes everything, also the archivists have chronic pain together because i said so, its also my first fic in 5 years so, there's two archivists now, this is super self indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:29:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27002014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archivings/pseuds/archivings
Summary: No one was expecting the promotion. Not Jon, not Tim, not Martin, but LEAST of all Sasha. Considering she was overlooked for initial upgrade to Archivist, it was surprising to all that Mr. Bouchard elected to add a secondary to the position. She wasn't complaining. Not with the pay raise.AKA, everyday I think about if Sasha and Jon were both archivists, and also what if that inadvertently killed all of Elias's evil machinations.
Relationships: Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sasha James & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sasha James/Tim Stoker
Comments: 13
Kudos: 87





	1. Sasha Worries About Her Employment Status

The day had started about the same as any other in the relatively average life of one Sasha James. She’d awoken in her flat, bright and early, and went about her morning routine with relative ease. She took her meds, did the stretches her physician recommended, and got dressed and ready before stepping outside to start the day. She wasn’t even a block down the road when her cell buzzed against her thigh in the pocket of her slacks.

Tim had texted. Nothing out of the ordinary, just  _ hope you remembered our coffee agreement~! _ She rolled her eyes. She replied back with a simple  _ Obviously. Same as last time? _ \-- Right before she turned the street corner, a thumbs up emoji confirmed her question. This was Sasha’s usual pre-work morning. Some days it was Tim getting the coffee, of course, but things were utterly mundane. She stopped at the usual coffee spot, a nice little café only a 25 minute walk from the institute. She ordered Tim’s caramel monstrosity and ordered her usual spiced chai--also buying a glazed scone that she knew she would inevitably have to split between Tim and Rosie at the reception. She considered picking something up for Martin, but decided she’d talk him into lunch instead. The poor fellow was stuck living at the Institute, after all, much to the dismay of him and Jon alike. Apparently, the month of June was not the kindest to Martin, no thanks to the cynicism of their collective boss. Sasha considered herself a skeptic, but not the way Jon was. It was July now, so at least the new routines with Martin felt like a new normal.

Sasha usually went out for lunch at the bistro across the way from the Institute, either with Tim or on her lonesome, but today she made a note to herself to steal them both away from the rows of files that were so often dismissed as “impossible.” The day was still on parr with what the previous week had been. 

She arrived to work by the same time she always had. She walked the wide staircase up to the double doors and shouldered them open, her hands full of coffee and a bagged scone. She edged the headphones out of her ear and let them fall loosely over her shoulder. Rosie looked up as she entered, and leaned over the reception desk to de-scone her. Sasha smiled at her, setting the coffee carrier on the laminate. 

“Warm out this morning!” Rosie said cheerfully, watching Sasha pack her headphones into her pants pocket. 

“Yeah. Kind of muggy, though.” Sasha replied, getting resituated. She adjusted her bag over her shoulder and fixed the flyaways sticking to her forehead. She readjusted the bun in which she tied up her locs. “That scone is glazed if you want some.” Rosie removed it from the bag and ripped a corner of the scone, placing it on a paper towel which was already at the reception desk.

“Thank you, Sash!” She said, dusting her hands, “While I have you here, Elias emailed me this morning.” Sasha grumbled, grabbing her drinks off the desk.

“What about?”

“Well, I was supposed to forward it to you during lunch, but, I know how  _ his  _ meetings can go. In the archives at least. Apparently he needs to see you at your earliest convenience this afternoon.”

“Finally letting me go?” Sasha joked, “You’d think he’d go easier on me after ripping the archivist potion from under me.” Rosie sniggered from behind the desk.

“Only you’d be so lucky, Ms. James. Don’t let Tim hear you mention it.”

“Never in my dreams. He’d never stop talking.” She said, making her depart to the archives. Inside, her brain filed away today’s future meeting. For all her joking with Tim about being fired, she really would prefer not to be. No thanks to the job itself, of course. To be frank, it was more the people and the intrigue of The Magnus Institute that drew her to the job. Being an assistant was inideal, but it wasn’t like she hated it. She got to do more or less what Jon did, just without the statements, and with the extra aspects of organizing them and following leads. Not to mention, her paycheck was suspiciously good. She enjoyed working here, at least enough to not want to lose her job. Besides, if she did she wasn’t sure how she would confront the other assistants. God knows Tim would raise hell before seeing Sasha fired. 

Her thought process was interrupted as the door to the archives was held open by none other than the object of her thoughts himself, Tim Stoker. He stood only a few inches taller than her, with a sharp face and a soft jaw. His hooded eyes caught wind of her, and he loudly announced, 

“One Sasha entering the Archives! Prepare yourselves!” She smiled, rolling her eyes.

“Thank you for the report, Tim, but we all know my reputation precedes me.” She rolled past him into the office space where their three desks resided. Tim followed her in, trailing after the little paper bag in her hand.

“Does Her Reputableness come bearing gifts?” 

“Hardly. She does come bearing this beast, though.” Sasha said, placing the carrier on her desk and placing Tim’s nightmare latte on his. 

“So judgemental today!” Tim cried, swooping in to grab his horrifying beveridge, leaning against the edge of his desk. “Sleep wrong?”

“No more wrong than usual.” She said bluntly, sitting down in her desk chair, removing the scone from it’s paper safety and decidedly ignoring the looks from Tim she knew would come. There was silence as she placed it on top of the bag. Long… silence…

“Can I--”

“Take some.” She said looking over at him. They both broke out into giggles as Tim opened a palm to accept the remaining corner, leaving Sasha with the crumbly middle. The two settled into their routine work silence for a blissful moment that lasted until Tim popped the piece of pastry in his mouth and through the gunk, said,

“You know, I think I prefer croissants.” Sasha groaned humorously, rolling her head back to look at him. 

“Maybe  _ you  _ should get the coffee tomorrow, then.”

“Nuh-uh, no way. We run on a non-negotiable schedule here in The Magnus Institute archives, Sasha, and it reads that you’re buying the caffeine this week.”

“How long will this labor last, Timothy?” Sasha asked, leaning dramatically over her chair.

“Until  _ Douchard _ pays to replace the coffee pot. Apparently CO2 and the old Hamilton Beach don’t mix. Unfortunately, Rosie told me he… Sasha?” Tim drifted off, watching as Sasha’s face seemed to slip from it’s previous sarcastic enjoyment to a less than flattered expression at the mention of their Boss-boss. 

“Oh, sorry, I just remembered something. You were saying?” Tim halted, peering with concern over a stack of statements he’d yet to sift through. 

“What did you remember?” He asked. Sasha had to think. She was not a liar by trade, but the thought of the onslaught of rants Tim would be on at the inclination that she may not be working here after 2 o'clock... She just shook her head. 

“Nothing important.” She stated simply, taking a short drink of her chai. “Speaking of scheduling, I’ve yet to see Jon around. Or Martin for that matter.” 

“Martin’s in the breakroom,” Tim explained, “saw his jammies this morning, actually. Did you know he’s a Pokemon fan? His bright red Pokeball pyjama shirt sure makes it obvious.” Sasha chuckled.

“And what about Jon?”

“Dare I say, I believe our Bossman is late.” Tim said, sounding strangely elite. 

“Oh, dear. You don’t think it’s worms, do you?”

“No way. He’s way too paranoid after they started arriving in the Institute. I’m choosing to believe he got insanely drunk and is passed out in a ditch somewhere, miles outside of London. Now he has to walk home.”

The door to the archives swung politely open, and in stepped the tall figure of Martin. He was, obviously, no longer dressed in his Pokejamas, and was instead sporting a sweater vest with little hearts embroidered on it. He was shoeless, though. 

“Good morning, Sasha.” Martin said, coming in with a mug of tea. He paced to his desk, asking along the way, “What’s this about walking home?”

“Jon. Zooted. Walking to London.” Tim said, leaning back in his office chair. “Definitely what’s going on.”

“He doesn’t drink!” Martin said indignantly. “Besides, he’s already here.”

“He is?” Sasha and Tim said in synchrony.

“He’s been in a meeting with Elias all morning. Told me he’s apparently discussing ‘new changes in the archives.’” Martin explained. Sasha looked down at her cup of Chai, and was blinded by the recurring thought that plagued her ever harder:  _ This is my last day at The Magnus Institute.  _

  
  


The hours of the day seemed to tick by agonizingly slow. With each passing hour Sasha could only sit and twiddle her thumbs at the thoughts in her head.  _ This is my last 10 o’clock in this office. This is the last breakroom bitch session at the Institute. This is the last time I would call a statement giver just to find out they were off somewhere obscure, or hang up when I say“This is Sasha James from The Magnus Institute, London, and--.” _ There were plenty of things she wouldn’t miss from her position here, in particular the worm infestation and the impossible leads. She wouldn’t miss all the strange yellow stains in the breakroom or the weird cartoonishly villainous portraits of the Heads of The Institute Past. But there’s stuff she  _ would  _ miss. She would miss morning banter with Rosie, listening to Tim’s rancid Spotify playlists, and watching Martin commit to his hobbies on company time. The other assistants here made the whole situation worthwhile. Perhaps she’d even miss Jon. 

The two initially met the day of their interviews, having sat with each other in the lobby. When Sasha transferred out of Practical Research in Artefact Storage , she was reunited with him. They’d been friends back in Research. Prior to his promotion, Jon was vying for Sasha to move up the rank once Gertrude’s post opened after her disappearance. Even now, the weird dissonance that seemed to form between them in the Archives was eclipsed by the fact that Jon seemed to trust Sasha the most out of the three of the three assistants. Who could Sasha really say she was friends with outside of the Institute now?

She could only think of one person she saw consistently besides Tim, Martin, Rosie, Jon, and perhaps Elias? Though she really only saw him in passing or in the breakroom on occasion. No, besides from them, Sasha only spoke regularly to the man in the coffee shop. He was there everyday, and he and Sasha talked often enough. She was unsure if she was really friends with this guy-- Michael. It’s not like Sasha couldn’t get new friends post-firing; she had always been told she was incredibly personable. However, there was something about working somewhere this goddamn weird that made her bond to the other assistants, and perhaps Jon as well, stronger. 

Lunch came and went too fast. Sasha was unsuccessful in her attempts to cajole Martin into leaving the Institute for lunch, being told he wasn’t comfortable leaving until the “Prentiss situation” was over. For his sake, Sasha hoped that was soon. Instead, her and Tim left at noon and started their galavant to the bistro. Tim spent the length of it rambling on about this statement Jon tasked him with following up.

“It’s not like he believes this stuff anyways, why does he want such extensive follow-ups?” Tim complained, gesticulating with flare. 

“It’s not like you aren’t great at it. Why are you upset?” Sasha said, watching as his  _ definitely not permed  _ hair bounced with each slightly more worked up step. “You’re  _ good  _ at compiling research, better than me and Martin, anyway.”

“It’s not the difficulty, it’s the principal! Jon is asking a lot for something he discredits with his every breath.” Sasha snrked, opening the door for him to step through.

“Maybe he’s just  _ so _ wooed by your immaculate research abilities.”

“Really, who wouldn’t be?” Tim said, following it up with a gentle  _ pew pew _ and some guns of the finger variety. Sasha and him shared their usual lunch experience. It didn’t feel extraordinary, but there was a weightedness in the air that only Sasha felt. She looked at Tim thoughtfully through their little date, and always had a primed contort when he made a joke about her being “enamored” by his good looks. She thought of what their relationship had been like through their few years at The Magnus Institute. 

They’d met in Research. Tim had been there for a couple months, and Sasha had just transferred in after three years in Artefact Storage. Something about him was magnetic-- and not just to her. It seemed like he was good friends with most of the folks in there. He was open, a very inviting presence that she knew was wholly natural for a guy like Tim. But there was something about him that Sasha could tell wasn’t fully present. To this day she has the feeling that there’s more of a motive to his employment here than he lets on. _ “Bored of publishing,” my ass,  _ Sasha thought, but she would never confront him about it, not with the nature of the materials that come through the Institute being what they are. And by that, she meant deeply traumatizing. They’d become attached at the hip despite, and have more or less been inseparable since. 

_ Inseparable _ , Sasha thought, perhaps somewhat bitterly,  _ I guess that eras over. _ Not that she didn’t regularly see and hear from Tim outside office hours, but there is quite a difference between seeing someone every day to seeing them once or twice a month. She wasn’t worried about him moving on without her, but more so what  _ she _ would do without someone as special as Tim. Sasha tried not to let these emotions bubble over, and instead tried to enjoy what could be their last lunch date that went wildly over company times limits. For some reason, the banter felt more remarkable, even if it was the same conversations they always had. As their meal concluded, Sasha felt like she needed to say something. Call her dramatic, if you will, but the odds were not in her favour.

Sasha had never even heard the words promotion or raise be spoken in her direction at the Institute. She had done a little above average on job performance evaluations, and she had never gotten particularly good vibes from Elias or his style of management. It made sense now why Martin had been transferred to the Archives when Jon had even requested him all those months ago. Elias was planning to cut her as soon as the Archivist role was filled. She had been Gertrude’s primary choice for the position, after all, and  _ everyone  _ who was working in the Institute knew what kind of weird rivalry the two shared. Sasha was bitter at the revelation, and it showed on her face.

It showed clearly enough for Tim to catch wind as they left the little bistro behind. 

“Sasha?” He inquired, grabbing her attention from the indignation rising in her chest. “You seem stressed. You sure you’re okay?” She drew her attention from the ground ahead of her to Tim’s concerned face. She was really gonna miss him, damn it. She was not gonna miss an opportunity to make him feel special, either.

“Sorry, just thinking.” She said. “Can I tell you something?” Tim blinked at her. He smiled, somewhat nervously. 

“Obviously. What’s up?”

“I have a meeting with Elias when we get back to the Institute,” she said, “I… think I might be getting laid off.” Tim halted in the middle of the pavement. He’d heard a lot of weird things from Sasha. Strange or uncanny memos from statements, strange stories from her years in Artefact Storage, and personal memoirs of her life over drinks. They never get serious-serious, at least not often.

“You think so?” Tim asked. It was the only thing he could really fathom to say. Sasha nodded and recounted the evidence she so bitterly compiled in her head. The revelation hit Tim like a bus-- much the way it did with Sasha. “That bastard! He can’t fire you! He-- Jon picked you. Wouldn’t firing you directly contradict that? I mean, Archivist isn’t the highest rung of the latter, but he’s got influence with Elias. Gertrude did.” Sasha sighed.

“I don’t know for sure. I just know it’s not due time for an evaluation, and Rosie would've told me if it was anyway.” She explains. “I just figured I’d let you know. You’re… we’re close. If I’m wrong you can yell about it all-day-every-day. I just wanted you to know because you’ve become really important to me and I--”

“Sasha.”

“Tim.”

“I am praying so hard that you come back from the meeting employed so I can remind you of this moment for the next million work days.” Sasha made a sound of angry disbelief. She, albeit gently, punched his shoulder, and began walking again towards the Institute.

“I was trying to be serious with you. I’ve been thinking all day about how much you guys matter to me. But oh no, Tim Stoker can’t offer me a brief moment of human love and emotion.” She said with a sizzling sarcastic edge. Tim laughed loudly, doing a little jog to catch up with her accelerated pace. He met with her again, to which she continued, “I hope I  _ do  _ get fired. How else will I know you miss me?” She said, her tone sinking back to their normal comical cadence.

“For the record, you’re important to me too. And I’d really rather prefer you not get fired.” He looked across the way at her, and smiled genuinely. She returned the expression.


	2. The Promotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasha has a meeting with Elias, celebration ensues.

The entrance to The Magnus Institute was nothing particularly out of the ordinary in the way of historical buildings in London. The building itself was deceptively small, but the entrance sported columns that gave the whole thing a weirdly self-important aura, like if you worked here you were in a new league above most people-- which was ridiculous considering the Institute’s laughable reputation. Usually, when Sasha was reunited with the Institute after lunch, the negative feelings she had were about getting down the stairs to the Archives without dropping or crushing the leftovers she had. Today, it was at the thought of never feeling that mundane worry ever again. 

Tim had walked with her up to the door, and had been trying to maintain a pleasant conversation to perhaps keep the anxiety that he knew was vexing her at bay. He felt mildly bad for not having a more prime emotional response to what they’d spoken about earlier. Perhaps it was because it hadn’t hit him yet. If you’re around someone long enough, you stop imagining what daily life is like without them. 

“Well,” Sasha said, “in I go.” Tim opened the door for her with a tight smile. She offered him something of an evil look, making a fine attempt at their normal dynamic. “Put my leftovers in the café for me?”

“Pssh-- There’s the Sasha I know.” Tim said, taking the leftover box off her hands. “I’ll see you after the meeting, yeah?”

“One way or another.” She said, taking a left after the entrance. Tim watched her go, Sasha heading towards the stairs up, as he headed down. 

Sasha held her head high. Anxiety bubbled over in her head, sending scalding, weighted spumes to her core. Elias’s office was on the second floor, positioned above where Sasha could guess where the Archives were down in the basement. She imagined her friends down below, and pushed them away as she arrived outside Elias’s office and nervously unfurled her hand to twist the doorknob, just to be greeted with it swinging open from the inside. Elias stood in front of her, a mildly content look on his face. 

“Ms. James, good to see you.” He said. He stepped gently to the side, motioning for her to enter with a “Please, come in.”

“Yes, thank you.” Sasha muttered, stepping inside. 

Elias’s office was surprisingly spacious. It was decorated, with green walls and a few bookshelves of oddities that she tried not to look at for too long. His desk was eerily organized, his computer sharing only a picture of the front of the Institute. Sasha imagined that his online files were as neatly rowed away as the ones in his office. She wasn’t quite sure what any of his files were for, actually, as he never saw Elias interacting with other corporate bigwigs or really anyone but the occasional statement giver who’d felt less than chuffed by the Archivist’s rude nature. Could they be statements? They certainly resided inside the same manilla envelopes and weren’t labelled as anything. 

“I’m sure you’ve figured out why I called you here today, Sasha?” Elias asked, sitting in his leather desk chair, and placing his intertwined fingers under his chin in a semi-charismatic, semi-patronizing manner. 

“No, honestly, I’m not sure I do.” Sasha said, lying.

“Oh, don’t be coy, I’m sure you have some inclination. Any at all?” Sasha had to think. Weighing the pros and cons of telling her Boss-boss that she figured he was firing her. If he was, that showed some clear deductive skills, but if he wasn’t, it showed that she mustn't think very highly of him.

“I… well, I suppose I had one idea.”

“Do you think I’m firing you, Ms. James?” Elias asked. His voice curled into some semblance of strange bemusement. 

“Well… well, now, Mr. Bouchard, I--”

“No, no, don’t make a fuss.” He said with a strange little grin. Sasha swallowed hard. “I have briefly considered letting you go, only around the time I promoted Jon to the Archivist position. The Archives is a machine that needs constant upkeep, and as well as you and Mr. Stoker have been doing, a fresh face like Martin was my best chance at keeping the gears turning. Fresh faces boost morale, and all that.” Sasha considered that for a while. With the animosity between Jon and Martin being what it was, it seemed strange that  _ that  _ had been Elias’s thought process. Clearly things weren’t going well between them, and if anything, Jon’s apparent hatred for Martin was slowing the Archives down quite a bit.

“So… you  _ are  _ firing me?”

“Quite the opposite. I’m promoting you.”

Sasha stopped-- she  _ truly  _ stopped. It was as if she was now staring into a frozen frame of Elias grinning at her as her heart and lungs stopped for an instant to let the idea catch up to her brain. 

“A promotion!?’ She asked, her surprisement audibly bubbling over in her voice.

“Don’t sound so surprised! I’ve been monitoring you, Sasha, and I may have been hasty in my promoting Jon. Oh, I believe he is competent, yes, but I believe the organism that is the Archives could greatly benefit from--”

“You’re promoting me to  _ Archivist?” _ She asked, the guilt of interrupting flying way over her head. 

“Astute observation, Ms. James.” Elias said. Sasha couldn’t keep the smile off her face. The relief washed over her in a deep, unbelievable wave. Not only was she not fired, but she had just moved into her ideal position in the Archives, AND was getting a pay raise? She promised herself some nice dinner and a movie tonight. In all her inner celebration, she had momentarily overlooked one thing.

“Wait… so are you firing Jon, then? Because I think that’s a bad idea. I may have wanted this position for a while, but Jon more or less earned it, still…” She trailed off to the sound of Elias chuckling.

“I am not firing the current Archivist, no. Who else would train you for this next week?”  _ Not Jon,  _ Sasha thought, laughing a bit at her own joke. Jon was definitely the least qualified to actually be an Archivist. The only thing he could teach Sasha was his system of organization. 

“Right, of course. Two Archivists, then?”

“Yes, indeed. I believe two would benefit the future of the Archives and the Institute greatly.”

“And I’ll just report to Jon after today? In the cohort way, not the assistant way.”

“Yes, indeed.” Elias says. “I’ll have Rosie forward you the information regarding your new schedule, pay increase, office space, et cetera.”

“I’m getting my own office?” Sasha asked, having not considered that yet.

“Not exactly. You and the Archivist will be sharing an office space. I already discussed it with him earlier today when I told him of your promotion. I’ve had some partitions ordered so you can regain some of your privacy. Please keep decoration to a minimum. I know it’s a private space, but we have a standard of--”

“Professionalism. Yes, thank you, Mr. Bouchard.” Elias pardoned her from his office, walking her to the door. Sasha practically jogged back to the stairs after the door closed behind her, a look of pure elation on her face.

The trek from the second floor to the basement felt like (mostly) nothing to Sasha, which was odd, because stairs were _ always  _ hell on her hips and back. It could’ve been the new meds, or it could’ve been the sudden influx of serotonin into her brain. It caught up to her in the form of an irksome dull ache in the A  _ promotion.  _

She hit the door to the Archives, and opened it with a wide swing. Tim and Martin were sitting at their desks, clearly hard at work trying to follow leads. The two looked up at Sasha and subsequently at Jon as he was nearly taken off his feet as the door hurled at him at terminal velocity. She quickly concave to stop him from falling over, arresting the sleeve of his blazer. 

“Sasha!” Martin and Tim exclaimed in unison, with Jon muttering an exasperated ‘my God.’ 

“Hi, guys!” She replied. Jon resituated, steadying himself against his cane and retracting himself from Sasha. He sighed and looked between the three of them with an irked face.

“I take it the meeting went well, then?” He said, sounding less vexed than one would guess.

“You still work here, yeah?” Tim added, Martin nodding along.

“Oh, you  _ know  _ it went well, Sims. And yes, I do still work here,” Sasha said eagerly, “In fact, I got a promotion!”

Tim and Martin fell open-mouthed. There was a silence of true astonishment and elatedness. Tim’s gape fell into a wide grin, and he stood fast from his seat. 

“A  _ promotion?  _ To what seat?”

“Archivist.” Once again, Tim fell silent. He looked to Jon, cocking his head.

“Is that what your meeting with Elias was about? You being let go?”

“No, I still work here, and I’m still an Archivist.” Jon corrected, shouldering the two manilla envelopes under his arm to where his hand could grab it, “In fact, I have work for you.”

“Come off it, Boss! Can’t we celebrate?” Tim asked, taking the two folders from Jon’s hand, seemingly against his will.

“Yeah, Jon, this is big for Sasha!” Martin added. Sasha chuckled.

“He’s not wrong.” She added.

“What celebration are you planning? Aside from one that makes statement follow-up impossible?” Tim had to think. He looked between Sasha and Martin, his brain having a strange little conference. 

“Go out to the pub? Take an early clock-out?”

“What about Martin? I don’t wanna leave him out of it.” Sasha pointed out. Martin smiled and thanked her, sounding pleasantly surprised. Tim stopped to think again, Jon looking at the three of them expectantly. Eventually, Tim clapped his hands together loudly, his head coming up with a downright mischievous idea. 

“Sleepover. Archives. Take out, borrow the library’s projector, watch something cheesy, fall asleep on the office floor.” 

“Absolutely not!” Jon yawped, taking the files back from Tim’s hand. “Elias expects me to keep up a professional standard of business in the Archives. I can’t let you have a slumber party unsupervised.”

“You let me sleep here just fine.” Martin pointed out, earning nods from Tim and Sasha. Jon sighed.

“In case you’ve forgotten, Martin, you don’t exactly have anywhere else  _ to  _ sleep. And on top of that, you’ve been eating in the breakroom and--.” Martin looked at the floor, a coy smile appearing on his face. “You’ve been eating in my Archives!”

“The caretaker’s been locking it after everyone goes home! I guess word never got to them that I was staying here after hours, and you never told me anywhere you’d want me to go! The hall?”

“Well-- maybe!”

“It’s freezing out there at night!” Martin exclaimed. Jon sputtered to a cornered silence.

“We don’t have to be here unsupervised, you know. You could sleep over with us.” Sasha noted, to which Tim snapped to life from his deep entrancement in Jon and Martin’s argument. 

“What! Why would you want him at our party?”

“Thank you, Tim, I feel much more apt to let this happen.”

“Tim…” Sasha said, reining him in. He sighed.

“Sorry. Sorry, Boss.” Now it was Jon’s turn to sigh.

“No… no, I haven’t exactly made myself the posterboy of having fun.” He admitted. There was a silent agreement between them, but obviously no one wanted to bold face say it to him. Sasha was the one to break the eerily strong quiet. 

“Jon, you won’t be babysitting us all night-- I mean you don’t even have to stay if you don’t want to. I technically have seniority in the Archives now. I can keep us in check.” Sasha pointed out. Jon was quiet for a moment.

“Where exactly will you be getting takeout from?” He asked. Sasha raised her eyebrows in surprise, mirroring the expression Tim and Martin were making. 

“Sit with us in here, we’ll work it out.”

* * *

“We’re not playing Uno.”

“Oh, come off it Martin!”

“It ruins friendships! We’re celebrating!”

“He’s not wrong, Tim.”

Sasha gingerly twisted the cap off her new bottle of water, chuckling. The crew was spread out between the three office desks, sitting in a collapsed circle on the ground. Takeout boxes lay ravaged between them, as well as an unopened box of Cribbage. Turns out, the one (1) board game in the breakroom was not one any of a group of 20-somethings wanted to play. It also turns out that Jon has excellent taste in takeout. 

They were all dressed in their pyjamas; Martin in the picturesque Pokeball shirt that Tim had raved about. The three free-to-roam Archive staff had gone to grab their belongings and had returned to find the projector set up and the takeout menus ready for them-- Martin’s work. From there the night had only pleasantly devolved into trying to concoct fun things to do, as none of them could really stay still enough to watch the movie that Tim had rented from a Movie Booth. It was around midnight when--

“Two truths and a lie!” Sasha suggested.

“You already know all my secrets, Sash.” Tim pointed out. Martin gave a pleading look, interrupting with, 

“I want to know more about you guys! I wasn’t in research with any of you.” He complained. “Just think of something strange, I want to do this.”

“What say you, Boss?” Jon stopped to think, before inevitably caving and saying yes. The three took a moment to deliberate what their tidbits were going to be. Eventually, Tim inquired, “Who’s going first?’

The three exchanged and debated over their facts. Sasha knew most of what Tim had to say, and called his lie easily. Sasha was much the same. Martin was more difficult. He was nice, yeah, and they all liked him well enough (with the exception of Jon) but they didn’t know so much about the guy. Jon was able to guess his lie, though, with surprising aptitude. It was Jon where they were left surprised by.

“A college band? Really?” Tim inquired, the hour creeping on 1:30 now.

“Yes, really. It’s a whole thing, don’t even get me started.” Jon said.

“Proof?” Tim added, leaning forward with ill-intent. 

“Hah! Absolutely not, and good luck finding it.”

“In case you forgot, Jon, me and Tim were in research for longer than you’d believe.” Sasha warned, smiling. Tim offered her a fist bump, to which she returned.

“That’s it. I’m pulling rank. Off to bed with you all.” Jon stood from his spot, shoulders encased in a blanket he borrowed from Martin.

“Hey, hey, hey! That’s not fair!” Tim exclaimed.

“Bed!” Jon called back, retreating into his office, and shutting the door with a soft click. Sasha, Tim, and Martin looked at each other before bursting out in a fit of giggles. Martin stood shortly thereafter.

“As much as I would love to sleep on the floor with you all, I have a cot and intend to use it.” He said before waddling in his blanket to the strange little safetoom he usually slept in.

“I am actually rather tired, too.” Sasha noted, moving her pillow around to where her head would lie, Tim, albeit reluctantly, following suit. 

“Weak.” He commented, to which Sasha laughed. The two settled into a soft silence. There was something there that they didn’t have time to acknowledge before they fell asleep, but if one had to guess, it was a mutual appreciation that they were still there, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you guys like reading this as much as I like writing it! seriously, its broken my writers block to the nth degree. :] also I made art for this chapter! 
> 
> here's a link :]  
> https://mothknife.tumblr.com/post/632506214910214144/s1-crew-art-for-the-fic-im-writing


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